In my novel, The Cost of Weather, there is a scene where the protagonist and his closest friend are having coffee in a cafe. Simon, the protagonist, has asked his friend to meet him, having reached a crisis point and in need of advice.
When this scene was read at retreat last summer, the two men in the group were quick to point out that “real men” didn’t hang out in cafes with other men. They didn’t meet for coffee. Really? I thought. How strange. Continue reading